Inside the Collection: Karee B.
A deep dive into the niche obsessions, wonderful curiosities, and scent rituals of Eau So Peculiar.
I lean into my witchy side daily, so I’ve learned to trust the way people’s energy hits me when I meet them. Some people just feel immediately familiar. Their presence puts you at ease before you can explain why.
That’s exactly how I felt when I met Karee for the first time. I’d been watching her TikToks for a while and was immediately drawn to her energy. I loved her thoughtful takes and was dying to see more of the incredible decor and vintage displays she surrounds herself with. She has an amazing collection and I trust her taste and perspective. But meeting her in person sealed it for me. I immediately thought, oh yeah, you’re someone I’d be friends with even if we didn’t share this particular obsession.
She’s just good people. And she’s wildly talented and crafty on top of that. I’m thrilled to feature her, and I highly recommend following her in all the places.
Karee B. is a wife and mum of four, a devoted collector, and the creator behind Eau So Peculiar on TikTok. She has always gathered things with intention, from keepsakes and stories to beautifully odd treasures that feel charged with meaning. Of all her collections, perfume has become the most expansive and personal.
Drawn to lesser-known niche houses, Karee seeks out fragrances that live beyond the expected. Her taste moves easily from the ethereal and pretty to the dark, complex, and wonderfully peculiar. She is captivated by the perfumer’s vision, the emotional architecture behind a composition, and the world they distill into a bottle.
Rooted in family and fueled by curiosity, Karee approaches fragrance the same way she approaches life: layered, thoughtful, and unafraid of nuance. For her, perfume is a living memory you can wear. A private ritual. An invisible signature that lingers long after she’s left the room.
How and when did you get into fragrance?
I was born to a diamond-doll of a mother who never left the house without perfume. She smelled expensive, intentional, unforgettable. Scent was part of getting dressed in our house.
In my 20s and 30s I collected designer fragrances like trophies. Beautiful, polished, crowd-pleasing. Then in my 40s something shifted. I wanted strangeness. Texture. Story. I sold every mainstream bottle I owned and dove headfirst into niche. Now I chase art in liquid form.
What are your desert island scents?
None of them are beachy. I apparently want to suffer beautifully on this island.
The Dark Side by Francesca Bianchi
Sultry, resinous, sticky like treacle with an animalic undercurrent that feels almost dangerous. It’s decadent and unapologetic. If I’m stranded, I’m going down dramatic.
Salty black licorice and poisonous plants. Hypnotic and a little feral. I love that the name nods to the folklore of witches and broom-riding hallucinations. It smells like ritual and rebellion.
Queens & Monsters by Henry Rose
Duality bottled. Hard and soft. White florals and petitgrain hovering over dark cocoa musk. Its strength wrapped in silk. I like perfumes that hold opposites in the same hand.
Tell me a story about a bottle in your collection.
Two Clue bottles feel like sport acquisitions.
The first was Like Mesh with neroli, “thin veil,” and cerebrospinal fluid listed in the notes. Somewhat unhinged. I posted a video of my Clue collection and the amazing Sarah (neveroutofbooks) messaged me while I was in the shower offering hers. I almost slipped to my death trying to respond. That level of excitement should require a helmet.
The second was the exclusive Clue scent made for the Hoxton Hotel in Chicago. Melanie (melbinks8) posted about it while traveling for work and I became obsessed. The hotel wouldn’t ship it. So I texted every Chicago friend I have. Within an hour, one was secured and en route to me. Perfume community magic is real.


A bottle you never wear but will never give away?
I have never smelled anything that transported me so completely. It feels like standing beneath the steeples of Notre Dame. Paloma created it after a trip to Paris with her son. As she was finishing the blend, he called to say the cathedral was on fire. She added smoke to an already sacred composition of oils, aged wood, and what feels like brittle biblical pages.
It’s reverent. Somber. Almost too emotional to wear. That bottle started my obsession with niche perfumery as storytelling.
The first bottle you would bring to a fragrance swap?
Hellmann’s Parfum de Mayonnaise — Will Levis No. 8.
Nothing says “swap table chaos” like a mayo perfume. But here’s the twist: it’s kind of… lovely? It’s creamy, savory, weirdly wearable. I know there’s someone out there with a misunderstood misfit scent who would see me coming and think, “Finally. My people.”


If I was over right now what would you spray on me?
Miss Tranchant by Hilde Soliani.
Apparently it’s my life mission to make people try a perfume with oyster, lobster, and butter notes. I live for the facial journey. It starts with “absolutely not” and ends with “wait… I like this.” It’s briny, warm, unexpectedly beautiful. Watching someone recalibrate their nose is my favorite party trick.
Which bottle do you reach for when you want comfort?
Four varieties of lavender, rosemary, sage, and a warm vanilla that wraps everything in softness. It feels like a cashmere blanket and the low hum of a lullaby. The name means “spell,” and that tracks. It quiets my brain down in the best way.

Best way to get into perfume without spending a lot?
Smell everything. And I don’t mean just perfume.
Smell grass. The produce aisle. Your neighbor’s flowers. The inside of a bookstore. When you start noticing the plumes of scent already living around you, your nose gets sharper and your connection gets deeper. Then when you try perfumes, they mean more. You’re not just smelling notes. You’re recognizing them.
What do perfume collectors have in common?
We’re memory hoarders.
Collectors are often deep divers. We trade memories the way kids trade Pokémon cards. “This smells like my grandmother’s kitchen.” “This smells like heartbreak.” The bond forms when someone pauses to understand why a scent triggered something. The good, the bad, the visceral disgust. We like unpacking it.
It’s less about the bottle and more about the why behind it.


Anything else you want to share?
Perfume is the most invisible art form. You can’t hang it on a wall. You carry it on your skin and let people discover it in passing. That feels intimate and rebellious at the same time.
I think that’s why I love it.
It’s storytelling without speaking.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful collection Karee! 💖 And for being such a positive force in this community.










Oh wow! What a ride! I loved reading about all the unique scents. The mention of the Mayonnaise perfume made me snort-laugh, then 10 seconds later I was teary-eyed remembering the smells of my grandmother's house. Great interview!
This was such a lovely interview and is what I'd send to any friend asking why I'm into perfume - you described the community and passion so well